I don't own Hetalia. Any musical terms will be explained at the end of each chapter. Enjoy!

Congratulations! You have been invited to play in the Hetalia Symphony Orchestra for Hetalia Day! The first rehearsal will be this Saturday at the Austrian concert hall - the Vienna Konzerthaus. Your music is included in this envelope.

Happy practicing!

-Hetalia International Committee of Music

"Sweeeet!" America shouted as he took out the music. "We get to play Marukaite Chikyuu!" He put his feet up on the dashboard of England's car and waved the envelope in the Englishman's face.

"Seriously, America?" England frowned at the American as he turned onto the highway. "You just now are looking at your music? The rehearsal starts in an hour!"

The two nations were driving from their Austrian hotel to the Vienna Konzerthaus, where the rehearsal was, in fact, set to begin in an hour.

"So what? I'm sure the trumpet part won't be that hard!" America patted his trumpet case, then looked at his music for the first time. "Sheesh, it is hard! But I will conquer it...because I'M THE HERO!"

Unfortunately, America had shouted that last part right into England's ear! The car swerved suddenly into another lane as England cursed in pain. "YOU BLOODY IDIOT! What do you think you're doing, shouting in the car?!"

"But I'm the hero!" America made a frowny face.

"You don't have to announce it to everyone in the whole world!" England reached down and retrieved his bassoon, which had fallen from his seat when the car swerved.

America looked at the bassoon and snickered. "Why do you play such a boring instrument, England? The bassoon never gets anything good to play! Hey, do you wanna know why I play the trumpet?"

England scowled. Driving on Austrian highways was tricky, and America's nonsense chatter was just making it harder.

"Hello, England? You there? Earth to England!" America waved his envelope in England's face for the second time. "The trumpet is more heroic, that's why! Hahahaha! I'm so excited about the rehearsal! All the countries will be there! Even France! Are you excited? Hey, why do you look so annoyed?"

The Vienna Konzerthaus was a beautiful concert hall. Tall marble columns bordered the large auditorium, and the walls and ceilings were engraved in gold. And on the giant stage, lit by a dazzling chandelier, a German and an Italian bickered as they practiced their instruments.

"No, Italien! You must play zat faster, FASTER!" Germany shouted at the Italian playing the flute.

"But I cannot play any faster! I want to take a break from practicing! I want PASTA!" Italy wailed.

"Nein! I hid your pasta vhere you vill never find it! You can have ze pasta vhen you are done practicing!" Germany was annoyed. Italy would never get the song up to full speed at this rate, and time was running out before the rehearsal started!

"Let him have the pasta, l'Allemagne." France popped up behind Italy. Why did France always pop up out of nowhere?

"Shouldn't you be practicing, Frankreich? And vhat instrument do you play, anyway?"

France smiled. "Ah, oui, I play the viola d'amour!" He picked up his viola and began to cuddle it. Germany grimaced and turned away. Viola d'amour. Typical. One would have thought he'd play the French horn or something.

"VE~! PASTAAA!" Italy had found where Germany had hidden the pasta, and was delightfully eating it, flute thrown aside.

"Nein! NEIN!" Germany rushed towards the Italian, tripping over his cello in the process. "Stupid cello! Useless Italy! STOP!"

"Ve! VE! VE~!"

Prussia peeked out from backstage to check out his "competition". Yes! I'm the first violinist to get here! he thought happily.

He looked around furtively, then sprinted to the concertmaster seat, where he then exclaimed, "I'M ZE AWESOME FIRST CHAIR!"

But before Prussia could sit down, he heard a squeak from the chair. Huh? He investigated the squeak. He looked on the chair. Nothing. He looked everywhere; in front of the chair, behind the chair, under the chair. Still nothing! Just to be safe, he looked on the chair again. Canada!

"Oh, hi, Canada! Sorry if I didn't see you zere! But, you know...you're kind of in my awesome Prussia seat!"

Canada looked up at the Prussian. "...," he said quietly. Too quietly.

"Vhaa? I didn't hear zat!" Prussia leaned in towards the Canadian.

"I was here first…" he heard faintly.

"Uh, sorry, Canada, but I really vanted to sit here. You know, 'cause I've been practicing all veek and all…"

"F-fine, you can sit here. I'll be 2nd chair…it's not like anyone will be able to see me anyway..." Canada moved over a seat and allowed Prussia to take the coveted first chair.

"Thanks, Canada! You're so awesome!" Prussia settled into the chair and unpacked his violin. He cursed. Out of tune…Prussia was never good at tuning.

"I'll tune zat, Prussia!" Prussia looked up to see Austria standing in front of him, hand outstretched.

"V-vhat? YOU? Touch my vital regions...I mean violin regions… oh, never mind. But, NO VAY!"

"Vhy? I am so much better at violin zan you are! I can tune anyzing!" There he goes again...Austria always liked to brag.

Prussia made a face. He untuned his violin until all the strings were half-falling off, then handed it over to the Austrian. "Try tuning zis!"

Austria tuned it in less than a minute. "Here you go, Prussia!" He smirked. Then, he went over to the large grand piano and began playing complicated chords on it. Showoff.

A thought then struck the Prussian. If Austria, the most musical country he knew, was the pianist in the orchestra, then who was the conductor?

All of a sudden, the door opened and the conductor walked in, waving a large black stick...ah, baton. Everyone gasped. THIS was their conductor?

End of chapter one! It seems that I am pretty good at writing as Prussia for some reason.

So, reviewers: tell me...who do you think is going to be the conductor?

Glossary:

Italien (German) - Italy

Nein (German) - no

l'Allemagne (French) - Germany.

Frankreich (German) - France

Oui (French) - yes

Viola d'amour (French) - "viola of love"

Musical Terms:

Concertmaster - the first-chair first-violinist, or the chair in which that violinist sits. As the highest-ranking seat in the orchestra, generally only the best violinists sit there. I really don't know how good of a violinist Prussia is, though...

Vienna Konzerthaus - a real concert hall in Austria. It looks just like I've described...look it up!